


Love's The Reason I'm Not Over You

by nachaelsquared



Series: It's A Strange Way Of Saying That I Know I'm Supposed To Love You [2]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Communication Failure, Emotional Constipation, Facials, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Lack of Communication, M/M, Multi, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 02:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22008391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nachaelsquared/pseuds/nachaelsquared
Summary: After John, Roger, and Brian get together for the first time, they have a hard time letting go of each other. Will they continue in limbo over their feelings, or will they work it out and be able to start a poly relationship?
Relationships: John Deacon/Brian May/Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Roger Taylor
Series: It's A Strange Way Of Saying That I Know I'm Supposed To Love You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574935
Comments: 74
Kudos: 74





	1. I Must Confess, I'm In Love With My Own Sins

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone was wondering, the title is from the song "Put It All Down to Love" by The Cross.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering, the chapter title is from the lyrics to "America's Suitehearts" by Fall Out Boy.

None of them could really explain how they'd gotten to this point; the weeks following their initial rendezvous containing drastically increasing amounts of meet-ups that never failed to lead to them having sex. It didn't really matter where they were, whether it be in backstage dressing rooms, storage closets, or the most comfortable option of Roger and John's shared flat, but the three bandmates couldn't be left alone and expected to act as only relatively close friends anymore. 

Maybe it was a little unfair to sneak behind the back of their oldest friend, unknowingly forming an unexpected, soon to be unbreakable bond. The jeopardy of the band could heavily weigh on the new situation as if the stress of the two youngest members already dating didn't already, a thought that rarely occurred to the trio every time they rustled together in the sheets. In fact, nothing seemed to bother their minds during their relations except for the rush of previously undiscovered pleasure they all received from each other's company. None of this was to say Freddie wasn't aware of what was happening - he wasn't blind and had technically set the entire thing into motion. The singer just wished his three friends would set their heads on straight and realise what was really happening between them. 

The worries typically came after the physical interactions, when the three were forced to go back to acting as if nothing had happened for society's sake, if not Freddie's. Three different minds produced three different types of concerns: Brian still caught up on the latest discovery of his own sexuality, John concerned about his developing feelings for the guitarist that had been recently only reserved for his boyfriend, and Roger confused by his sudden overwhelming dominance over his younger lover. As much as John and Roger tried to communicate within their relationship, some things were just difficult to bring up, and the current recurring threesomes presented too many positives to bring the mood down with discussing the negatives.

And Roger certainly couldn't explain how he'd ended up in a dingy dressing room, pressed against the wall with Brian's hips slamming into his backside. He turned his head to give a wink to John, who was leant against the wall next to the blonde and slowly stroking himself with lust-blown eyes at the exhibit happening in front of him. However, his attempt at cheekiness was interrupted by a high-pitched moan ripped from his throat as the guitarist upped his tempo and tightened his grip on the drummer's hips. John smiled at his boyfriend as Brian neared his release and slightly leaned forward to press their lips together. Roger moaning into his mouth at the feel of Brian finishing inside him had John giving his own cock a squeeze to stave off his orgasm. The bassist pulled away from the kiss to watch his lovers catch their breath with a coy smile. 

Roger sighed when Brian eventually pulled out and John took the opportunity to harshly grab the guitarist's curls, pulling the taller man down for a heated kiss. Brian's hands instinctively flew to grip the brunette's hips and eagerly let John take control to ravish his mouth. The kiss seemed to end just as it started and John stepped back with a final gentle bite to the guitarist's bottom lip before giving him a light pat on the ass and switching their positions to stand behind Roger. 

"Ready, babe?" John's whispered words fanned over the drummer's ear and down his neck, sending a shiver through his already sweaty and heated body. Roger whined as John grabbed his cheeks to separate them, the sight of Brian's release starting to drip out making the bassist dizzy with arousal, and impatiently nodded his head up and down. The blonde felt more than heard John's deep laugh at his reaction and prayed his shaky arms holding him against the wall wouldn't give out. His strength was certainly tested as John hastily slid into him, the only aid in the movement being the cum already inside of the blonde. One of the bassist's hands moved to grasp at his already bruising hip and the other tangled into the base of the blonde's long, matted locks at the back of his head. 

A sharp tug had Roger arching his back and letting out a low moan, the hand closest to Brian reaching out to grab the guitarist's shoulder. He allowed John to maneuver his head to lay on the bassist's shoulder as he started to wiggle his hips. John understood the motion and pulled back his hips only to forcefully slam them forward, setting an unrelenting pace to chase his own climax. Roger stared up at the ceiling and allowed a string of moans and whispered curse words fall from his lips, his mind drifting as he focused on the feeling of being surrounded by his two lovers.  _ How ironic _ , Roger mused as John pounded into him; the current situation of Brian watching him get fucked in a dressing room almost mirroring how all of this had started - except for the change in his position in the equation. This time, however, they had the mind to actually make sure most of the people involved with the band were gone from the venue and the door was locked. 

Roger’s thoughts were redirected to the situation when Brian wrapped a firm hand around his aching cock. John had asked him at the start of their threesome to hold off his orgasm until both Brian and himself had finished, a challenge that Roger wasn’t sure he could complete but was completely willing to try and please his boyfriend in anyway possible. Brian’s firm movements, much more confident than they had been just a few weeks ago, made the blonde’s cock generously leak and he was sure he’d fail John’s request. It wasn’t until he lifted his head and noticed Brian’s other hand had disappeared behind John that a rush of envy coursed through his veins, encouraging him to hold back for a few more moments with the knowledge through John’s suddenly strained movements that the brunette was close. He now purposefully dug his nails a little harder into Brian’s shoulder and clenched around John, earning a soft moan in his ear. The drummer tried to focus on anything except the hand around his length and the persistent assault on his prostate, his hand against the wall searching for any kind of purchase against the cold bricks. 

Luckily for Roger, his boyfriend finally came inside of him, the bassist resting his head on the drummer’s shoulder as he shallowly continued his hip movements as he rode out his release. The mixed feelings of both men’s cum filling him up and Brian’s constant hand movements had Roger finishing shortly after with a strangled moan. They stood still for many moments, their labored breathing filling the silent room. John hesitantly pulled out and was careful to scoop Roger’s limp body into his arms, knowing the blonde’s knees and arms were weak after what they’d put him through. 

“You did amazing, Rog. Thank you,” John softly spoke, giving the drummer a gentle kiss on the nose.

“Thank  _ you  _ guys,” Roger replied with a shy smile. The blonde rested his head against John’s shoulder and reached a hand out to indicate he wanted Brian to join them. The guitarist shuffled over and reached his arms around to hug the couple, all of them laughing at the peculiar embrace. The guilt made itself known as Roger noticed the red, nail-shaped marks branded into Brian’s shoulder. 

“Sorry about that,” Roger sheepishly admitted, nodding his head towards the marks. 

“‘S okay, I would’ve said something if it was too much,” Brian smiled, briefly tightening his arm around the drummer. 

“Can we get cleaned up now?” Roger pouted, looking up at John, but making no effort to move. John grinned down at him with a small laugh and moved back, disassembling the group hug. The three wiped themselves off and got redressed in comfortable silence, each of them reverting into their mindsets filled with separate worries. But just as always, none of them had the gall to bring it up and gave each other quick kisses as they said their goodbyes. Roger seated himself on the shabby couch next to the spot on the wall where he was pressed up against just minutes ago and watched Brian open the door, checking the hallway before leaving into the quietness of the mostly abandoned venue. John seemed to pay no mind to it and situated himself onto Roger’s lap, laying his legs across the empty space on the sofa and cupping the side of Roger’s face to turn his attention to himself.

“Everything alright?” John sighed, running his thumb over Roger’s cheek. 

“I’m fantastic, why?” Roger retorted. He plastered on an obviously fake smile and brought a hand up to innocently rest on John’s thigh. 

“I didn’t push it too far, did I? You seemed a little spaced out during it and I know we’ve never done anything like that before and-”

“You did nothing wrong, Deaky. I loved it and you definitely would’ve known if I wasn’t into it.” Roger finished his statement with a chaste kiss to John’s lips, letting a real smile creep up on his face at the way the bassist blushed at his words. 

“You sure there’s nothing else bothering you?” The earnest in John’s eyes made Roger feel a little terrible at hiding is brewing feelings about their situation, but he still couldn’t find the courage to voice his opinion. Instead, he employed the sarcasm he was best at.

“Well, we’re still sitting in this gross dressing room and I have the world’s most handsome man sitting on my lap.”

The comment elicited a small chuckle from John before he responded, “I guess we can go back to the flat now.”

“That only solves one of my problems,” Roger smirked, running his hand up John’s leg.

“I might have a solution for that at home.”


	2. I've Got Everything That You Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everybody! This is sort of just a smutty filler chapter but I will progress the plot more drastically soon! Hope you enjoy my shameless porn anyways :)
> 
> In case anyone was wondering, the chapter title is from the lyrics to "From Me to You" by The Beatles.

Thankfully, the weather had decided to give England a break and had cooled down to a normal summer heat in the past few weeks since its terror of blazing temperatures. Roger was especially grateful for the break in oppression, the cooler conditions allowing him to sleep cuddled up with John without having to separate halfway through the night so as to not drown in his own sweat. He basked in the rising sunlight peaking between the blinds to shine dimly onto his face and was lulled back into a half-sleep state by John’s rhythmic breathing and the heavy arm slung across his waist. It wasn’t until his groin had other plans that his mind was awake for good and he let out a deep sigh, stretching his limbs while trying to move as little as possible in order to not stir his boyfriend. Roger remained still for many long moments until the strain in his boxers became too unbearable and he started to squirm. 

“John,” he whispered and waited, but got no response.

“John.” Still nothing.

“John.” 

Finally, the young bassist awoke and unhappily grumbled into his shoulder. “What do you want?” His voice was hoarse and it would’ve been obvious to anyone that he didn’t want to be awake at the moment. 

“Are you awake?” His half joking and half serious question earned him a knee to the thigh and John smiled against his skin as the blonde cried out in mock pain. “Wanna help me out?”

“With what?” John yawned before resting his head on Roger’s shoulder and snuggling closer to him. 

“You know what,” Roger whined, wiggling his hips to aid the true meaning of his answer. 

“You have hands.” Roger huffed at the cold reply, rolling out from the embrace to slowly clamber out of the bed. John moved to lie on his back and pouted up at the drummer. “Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna use my hands in the shower,” Roger mocked with feigned annoyance as he walked out of the room down the hall. “You should probably get out of bed soon, we’re meeting at the studio early to record some songs today!” He added once he reached the bathroom, turning on the noisy shower tap and turning to inspect himself in the mirror.

The past few weeks hadn’t been particularly kind to him: the countless rendezvous with Brian and worrying about John kept him up most nights, and the following days of recording sessions, band practices, and concerts were accompanied with never-ending amounts of cigarettes mixed with the occasional drinks. It had recently clicked why he was so possessive over John lately, the realization becoming clearer every time they slept with Brian: it was that he was scared of losing him. Roger hated his feelings, it felt disrespectful to say the least to imagine he had so little faith in the bassist that he would up and leave him for one of their best friends they’d been shagging for a little more than a month, but the clear connection between the guitarists diminished his confidence in being able to satisfy John. It ate at him more and more each day, but never found the courage to actually bring it up and sound like the world’s biggest jerk for harbouring the jealousy in a situation he had been initially been just as eager about. 

A pair a warm arms wrapping around his torso pulled Roger from his thoughts and he looked up in the mirror to watch John press a light kiss to his neck. “And what are you doing in here?” The blonde smirked, turning around in his partner’s arms. 

“Thought I could use a shower.”

“At the exact same time as me?”

“Saves water.” They both laughed at their banter, John giving him a chaste kiss on the lips before stepping back to remove his pyjamas and reached a hand behind the curtain to test the water temperature. Roger found himself stuck in place, staring at the figure of his boyfriend milling about the room and wondering how he’d gotten so lucky. The sound of John pulling the curtain back snapped him out of his second trance that morning and laughed at the way the brunette was smiling at him. “You gonna shower in your pants?” The blonde simply shook his head and quickly removed his only garment of clothing, joining his lover under the warm spray of the shower. 

It took only a few seconds before the shower turned improper, Roger pulling the bassist into a heated kiss while cupping his face with both hands. John, however, quickly disconnected their lips to carefully sink to his knees in front of the drummer. “Weren’t you the one who told me to take care of this myself?” Roger quipped with a knowing grin, looking down at the brunette.

“No,” John grinned back while placing his hands on Roger’s thighs, “I told you to use your hands. But you can’t exactly use your own mouth, can you?”

“I’ve never tried.”

John rolled his eyes at the comment, leaning in to teasingly lick a faint stripe up the blonde’s cock. “Just please don’t cum in my mouth,” the brunette added after repeating his actions a few times. 

“What about on your face?” Roger joked, knowing that it was certainly something John didn’t usually enjoy in the bedroom. He hadn’t expected the bassist to take it seriously, normally the question would’ve just earned him a nasty look or smack to the thigh in return, but perhaps his tone didn’t convey that because John paused for a moment as if to consider the option. 

“Fine,” he sighed, looking up at the blonde with a faint blush painted on his cheeks. “But only because we’re in the shower.” Roger had no time to process the confirmation before John wrapped his lips around the tip of Roger’s cock and continued his teasing, still keeping eye contact with his boyfriend. The drummer suppressed a whine as John bobbed his head, slowly taking more and more of his length down. He relished in the feel of the slowly cooling spray beating on his back counteracting with the warm enclosure of John’s mouth around him, gingerly bringing his hands up to lightly grasp at the brunette’s long locks as he let his eyes slip shut. Roger’s knees began to buckle as John continued pulling out all the stops, the bassist pushing his own limits and occasionally gagging around the length in his mouth. The water had definitely run cold when Roger peeked his eyes back open, astonished at the sight of his lover seemingly content to sit on his knees in front of him forever and tilting his own gaze up to meet Roger’s. John could sense his partner was close and released the cock in his mouth with a lewd sound, still sitting patiently on his knees and allowing Roger to keep one hand gripped in his hair. The other hand went to his cock and started its movements with a rushed intensity, the drummer already dangerously close to his release. The visual of John softly closing his eyes and obscenely sticking his tongue out was Roger’s final straw, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he defaced the younger man in front of him. 

Still in the haze of his orgasm, Roger helped John stand up and wiped the mess from around the brunette’s eyes so that he could properly open them. Despite having done all the work and receiving essentially nothing in return, the glassy look in John’s eyes as his stare bore into Roger’s was compelling enough to make the drummer lean in and gently connect their lips even with the now cooling mess on John’s face. The kiss didn’t last long though, John opting to swap their places and wash his face off in the unrelenting stream of water that had successfully begun to wrinkle his fingers. “I thought you didn’t want any in your mouth,” Roger softly spoke in a joking tone, finishing cleaning himself off and grabbing the soap to help his boyfriend. 

“Changed my mind,” John replied, looking over his shoulder to give the blonde a wicked smile. 

“You know,” Roger lowered his voice while sliding an arm around John’s waist to mimic the way the bassist had snuck up on him in the bathroom and pressed a few kisses along his exposed neck, “I could give you something in return...or you could give me something.”

He felt John’s quiet laugh at the suggestion and the younger man leant his head back to rest on Roger’s shoulder. “You sure you want to after last night?” The question surprisingly stung, Roger immediately feeling a little hurt at the words; he knew John was just looking out for his well-being, they had gone a few rounds once leaving the venue after getting together with Brian the night before, but the nagging idea of John being hesitant to be intimate with just him was always sure to make itself known. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I want it.”

“Alright, well can we at least get out of the shower first?”

Roger agreed to the question and gave John one last smacking kiss to the neck before releasing the bassist from his embrace. They finished up in the bathroom with awfully suppressed giddiness at the promise of what was shortly to happen, and almost tripped over each other as they raced back to the bedroom. The lack of clothes greatly helped their cause and the current worries of their lives dissipated as they got lost in the sensation of being with each other. Roger fervently kissed his partner, letting the younger man on top of him glide his hands across his body in a seemingly innocent way as if he had dug into the blonde’s psyche and was trying to reassure him that Roger was who he still wanted more than just sexually. When John pulled back to grab the lube from the bedside table, he could immediately see the unusual soft, almost saddened look on his partner’s face. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roger sighed, giving his boyfriend a small smile. “It’s just...I love you, John.”

“I love you too, Rog,” John grinned back and gave the drummer a quick kiss on the nose. “I love you more than I could ever put into words.” They shared a thoughtful look before John clicked open the bottle in his hands and the bawdiness of the situation came back into play. 

Before John could pour the slick substance onto his fingers, Roger needily piped up, “Please no prep, I’m still good from last night.”

John quirked an eyebrow at the blonde, ignoring the plea and proceeding to lube up his fingers. “I’ll be quick, I don’t want you to get hurt.” Roger huffed in protest, but knew there was nothing he could say to stop John and slipped a pillow under his hips once the brunette had scooted down the mattress to rest between his legs. The bassist stayed true to his word, wasting no time in making sure his partner was open enough and had Roger turned into a moaning mess within a few short moments. 

“You still sure you want this?” John teased, slicking up his cock and getting into position between the drummer’s legs. 

“Christ, John,” Roger practically growled, “just fuck me already.” 

“I don’t know, I didn’t hear a ‘please’ in there.”

“Listen, I already came once this morning. I could just get up right now-” The blonde was cut off by John finally pressing himself into the older man, Roger more concerned with stifling a loud moan than finishing his playful protest. John eventually began to roll his hips once he felt his lover relax underneath him and leant down to lightly mouth at the blonde’s jaw. Roger sighed as he melted into the moment, John on him and in him being the only things occupying his mind. It wasn’t long before his cock was fully hard again, now steadily dripping onto his own stomach and smearing against John’s as the brunette increased the speed of his movements. The drummer could sense his partner was close by the slight stutter in his thrusts and gripped John’s hair to pull him into a sloppy kiss. The brunette breathily moaned into his partner’s mouth as he reached his climax, the warm feeling inside of Roger causing him to let out a small whine. Roger followed soon after, finishing for the second time that morning and sinking bonelessly into the mattress after he did so. He vaguely registered John giving him a soft kiss to his temple before pulling out to lie next to him on the bed. They enjoyed a comfortable silence as their breathing evened out until Roger turned to John and sighed, “Now I’ll have to clean up again.”

John giggled and reached up to tuck a piece of Roger’s hair behind his ear. “You might wanna hurry up then, we have to get to the studio soon. And you aren’t the only one who got messy.”

“But that would require getting out of bed,” Roger dramatically sighed, bringing an arm up to rest on his forehead. 

“Well why don’t you go to the bathroom and I’ll get started in here? Unless you want to stay with me and help out.” John pouted and grabbed Roger’s free hand to lace their fingers together. 

“Hmm...you have hands, don’t you?” The blonde smirked back.

“You’re such a twat.”

“But you love me anyways.”

“Unfortunately, I do.”


	3. Before It Gets Any Better, We're Headed For A Cliff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please bear with me guys, I'm not the best at writing angst. 
> 
> In case anyone was wondering, the chapter title is from the lyrics to "Turn It Off" by Paramore.

_ Just tell him. _

“-don’t even know how going in this early is gonna get any more done than usual-”

_ He probably already knows, it’s written all over my face. _

“-bloody Fred and his crazy ideas, making us get up-”

_ Or maybe he doesn’t. Then I’ll bring it up and he’ll hate me forever and probably dump me. _

“-ridiculous to go in this early the day after a concert-”

_ Delaying this will only make it worse. Just tell him. _

“Are you even listening to me?” An ancient pothole doomed to never be fixed jostling the car and the turn of Roger’s head in his direction redirected John’s attention to the conversation he had zoned out of once it started.

“Y-yeah,” John lied, aware his boyfriend knew he wasn’t being truthful. They exchanged small smiles at the fib and the bassist tried to push away his intrusive thoughts as he rested his head against the window, letting his eyes slip shut for the short remainder of the car ride. He hadn’t noticed Roger periodically taking his focus off the road to scan his partner’s face in search of what had the brunette so suddenly quiet, and it made John feel even worse about his inner monologue when the drummer moved one hand from the wheel to comfortingly rest on his thigh. 

Once they reached the studio, the blanket of silence hadn’t lifted from their atmosphere but John grabbed Roger’s hand to walk together into the studio as they always did nonetheless. Freddie perked up when the pair joined him in the control room, happily abandoning his work splayed across the mixing board in favor of giving his bandmates quick hugs. “Finally somebody else is here! I know I’m usually the late one but did everyone think I was taking the piss when I asked you to come in early?” His voice was confident as ever, but it was obvious to his friends that he was actually a little upset at the thought of them not taking him seriously.

“Well, you are making us come in despite having been on stage not even twelve hours ago,” Roger huffed, dropping himself on the well-worn couch pressed against the opposite wall behind the elaborate setup. 

“Maybe you should’ve spent the time in between sleeping instead of shagging our bassist,” Freddie quipped back, almost pausing at the end of his sentence as if to add something else before resuming his place in the chair in front of the desk, and winked up at John. The brunette felt his cheeks heat up and pretended to be interested in Freddie’s hastily scribbled notes to escape his embarrassment, looking down at the work and crossing his arms. 

“Can you blame me?” Roger smirked from his spot on the couch. “I think you’re just jealous.” 

“Oh yes, darling, I lie awake every night pondering why our beloved Deaky chose you, mister player, over any other decent man in this world. Better be careful, he might gather his wits one day and leave you for someone worthier.” 

“Are you insulting my intelligence?” John jested back at the singer, looking down at him and cocking a hip. 

“I’m just saying, you’ve made better decisions.” Freddie grinned up at John and swiveled around in the chair once a balled-up piece of paper collided with his head to see Roger mimicking his previous smile. “I get no respect in this band, and I’m the oldest,” he sighed, picking up the paper to throw it back at the blonde, who laughed when the object weakly bounced off his chest. 

The two friends continued their light bickering, leaving John to be the only person to notice Brian’s quiet entrance into the room. The guitarists gave each other small waves and found it hard to tear their gazes apart, smiling at each other from across the room. It was John who looked away first, ashamed of the way Brian’s stare made him feel inside.

As each day passed, the brunette despised himself more and more as he reflected on his true feelings. There was no doubt in his mind that Roger was the love of his life; they’d been together since Queen had started and he couldn’t see himself living without the drummer. But ever since they’d started sleeping with Brian, the same nervous, excited rush of reserved feelings he usually felt only around his boyfriend made itself present when the guitarist joined them. It wasn’t as if he felt less for Roger, in fact it seemed absolutely nothing could erode the strong affinity he felt for the older man, but he seemed to be gaining a fondness for Brian in addition to his well-rooted love for his boyfriend. It felt wrong and greedy to assume he deserved to have the best of both worlds; the main problem in all of this was how to bring it up to either of the men. There was no simple way to explain it to them: there was no doubt Roger wouldn’t agree one-hundred percent to his idea of making Brian more than a friend they occasionally shagged without understanding this wasn’t because John wasn’t happy with him anymore, and John was sure the guitarist held his own reservations over going any further due to the fact it had only been weeks ago that he’d discovered he didn’t mind being with other men.

Brian walked closer to the group, finally gaining the attention of the other two members and gave them an apologetic smile. “Sorry I’m late, everyone. Was your plan to sit here and argue all morning or actually practice before the engineers get here?”

“Oh not you too,” Freddie sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I can’t stand all this abuse.” The group laughed at their singer’s dramatics, the three other musicians moving to shuffle into the spacious live room as Freddie scooped up his copious sheets of music. They milled about in their normal manner, but Freddie immediately noticed the strained tension hovering between his friends. Thanks to all the cramped years they had already spent together, he knew they were trying to act as if everything was normal when it clearly wasn’t; John seemed to be unknowingly gravitating towards Brian and the sour mood Roger was trying to conceal shone through in his stiffened body language and rigid features. 

“I know we already have more than enough material for the album,” Brian started, pulling his own sheets of music from his bag, “but I came up with this a few days ago. I think it’s a pretty good one.” His bandmates had settled into their respective spots in the room and eyed the guitarist suspiciously as he almost raced around, eager to pass out his new song. 

“‘Some Day, One Day’,” Freddie sighed, clearly upset at the idea of Brian disrupting his methodical plans for the album as he scanned the paper. “Any specific reason for the sudden inspiration?”

“Uh, no,” Brian mumbled, settling back on his own stool near his guitar. “Just sort of came to me, I guess.” With the singer’s back turned to other three, Brian was able to glance between the drummer and bassist with a tiny smile. They reciprocate his look and John felt a faint blush creep up on his cheeks when the guitarist’s gaze landed on him once again with a quick wink. 

Their morning practice continued on with some degree of normalcy, aside from the stolen glances between the three lovers. However, as John was tuning his guitar to actually start recording, he couldn’t help but notice the grouchy look on his boyfriend’s face as the blonde mindlessly tapped some unknown beat against the snare drum. Just as he was about to stand up and ask him about it, the booming voice of the sound engineer crackled over the loudspeaker to announce it was time to begin recording a guitar part, beckoning the other band members back into the control room. Freddie and John took up most of the space on the dinky couch, and John decided to pull his awkwardly standing partner onto his lap. He leaned up to place a chaste kiss on the blonde’s cheek and was disappointed to notice Roger barely reacted, opting to glare through the glass at the guitarist. After a few moments of listening to Brian play each riff instructed of him through a game of telephone between Freddie and the engineer with precision, the drummer abruptly stood and turned towards his bandmates with the most somber look they’d ever seen. “I think I’m gonna head home,” he whispered, looking down at the floor. “I’m not feeling well.”

“What’s wrong, Rog?” John stood up to face him and hooked a hand under his chin, forcing the blonde to look up at him. “Do you want me to go with you?” 

“No, uh, I think I just need to go home and rest.” The slight quiver in the drummer's voice and the glossy look over his eyes that threatened to spill over into tears broke John’s heart; he knew there was tension growing between them, but the brunette had no idea what was pushing his partner to this point. “I can leave you my car keys.”

“No, you take the car. I’ll find another way home, I don’t want you walking home if you’re feeling sick.” John and Roger both knew the blonde wasn’t actually physically under the weather, but the bassist figured it was best to let his boyfriend calm down from whatever was plaguing his mind than to push the matter in front of a group of people they knew rather well. Roger simply nodded, still refusing to maintain eye contact with John even in his current position and choosing to stare at the floor, and hastily left the room. John bit his lip as the door swung shut and he resumed his position on the couch, trying to focus on anything except the look on Roger’s face just seconds ago that was seared into his mind. 

“You should really talk to him,” Freddie whispered, leaning towards John so their conversation could maintain some privacy. “I don’t want to sound like mister bad guy, but all this relationship drama is starting to affect the album...and soon enough, the band. I love all of you dearly but I’ll never forgive you three if your unresolved feelings ruin us before we get the chance to rightfully dominate the music world.” John let out a small, breathy laugh at the lecture turned self-compliment and glanced over to see Freddie giving him a sympathetic smile. The singer gave him a caring pat on the shoulder before standing up and joining in the conversation currently being exchanged between their crew as if he hadn’t just been a bonafide shrink for their youngest member. 

_ I need to just tell him.  _


	4. I Follow Where My Mind Goes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering, the chapter title is from the lyrics to "Love My Way" by The Psychedelic Furs.

Having been so enraptured with his work, Brian had failed to notice the absence of a body behind the thick glass until many minutes later when the engineers deemed his portion of the song complete. He happily strode into the control room, unaware of the thick tension still lingering after Roger's disappearance, and hardly realised John's bleak expression as he leaned over the mixing board. 

"How was that?" Brian grinned, bringing his hands to his hips. 

"Marvellous as always," Freddie smiled back from the corner of the room. The engineers looked up at the guitarist in agreement, nodding their heads before returning to their job to make the sound as perfect as possible. 

Brian looked to John for his opinion, knowing the youngest was always the most honest with him no matter how blunt that truth may be, and finally noticed the empty spot next to the brunette on the couch. His brow visibly furrowed as the bassist sheepishly tore his eyes from his lap to lock eyes with Brian and he took in the dismal sight before speaking. "Where's Roger?" It was as if he'd asked something forbidden in bringing up the subject by the way the room tensed with uncomfortable silence, everyone seeming to avoid eye contact with the guitarist and mentally arguing over who would let the cat out of the bag.

"He, uh-" John quietly answered with a clear of his throat, "Roger left. He wasn't feeling well." Brian knew something was off by the way John struggled to look at him and the brunette stood up to stride towards the door to the live room before he had a chance to respond. “Time for my part, then?”

“Sure, we’re ready when you are,” one of the engineers replied. Brian felt some sort of relief in the nonchalant tone of the technician’s voice; it felt as if they knew something was wrong but didn’t want to intrude. It still bothered the guitarist that some underlying problem was clouding the atmosphere and he seemed to be the only person unaware of the situation. He mindlessly watched John move in an almost mechanical fashion, trying to wrack his brain for any inclination at what could’ve happened in the few moments he was playing; he had shared some kind gestures with the couple that morning and figured that it couldn’t have been anything he did in the past hours. That didn’t stop Brian from overthinking the sudden unease amongst the group and concluding in contradiction to his first idea that his recent involvement with the duo certainly had to have something to do with it. 

John kept his collected yet sorrowful manner as he began his part of the recording process, opting to keep his eyes trained on the bass in his lap to avoid catching a glimpse of his friends through the glass. Despite his usual precision in learning what the others had written for him, the brunette made mistake after mistake, upsetting both the engineers and himself in the process. Brian continued to watch him with rapt attention and was sure if John were to look up, it would break his heart to see the bassist so distraught and expended of any self-patience. 

“Brian,” Freddie’s soft voice cut through the guitarist’s thoughts, “may I speak with you in the hall for a minute?” The singer must have also noticed the shift in John’s usual personality and concentration in playing his instrument, and Brian willingly followed his friend out of the room. Freddie sighed and leant his back against the wall across the door to the control room, biting his lip in contemplation. Brian settled himself on the opposite wall and crossed his arms in wait of what Freddie had to say to him. “What the hell is going on with you three?” 

“I wish I knew,” Brian admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. “We were fine this morning, or at least I thought we were. Last night we…” He trailed off as a slight blush appeared on his cheeks, embarrassed to almost blatantly disclose his sex life without a second thought.

“I’m quite aware of what you were most likely doing last night, dear,” Freddie smirked, trying to calm his friend’s fears of being so open about his situation. “You lot aren’t as sneaky as you think you are.”

“I thought everything was fine when we parted, and I got the same impression this morning. Maybe Roger seemed a bit off, but I figured he was just being moody over having to come here early. Is he really feeling ill?”

“I doubt it,” Freddie answered with a sympathetic half-smile. “It’s not my place to say...but I think there’s clearly something going on between him and John. The shift in their dynamic was obvious when they walked in earlier and I feel kind of sorry for them, honestly. John was trying to act as if nothing was wrong, and obviously that front has finally cracked, and Roger was brooding more than usual.”

“I’m sure it has something to do with me,” Brian grumbled, glancing down at his shoes. 

“You should probably ask them about it, then,” Freddie replied with sternness, his voice still caring as always but now holding a bit of an edge.

“But what if it doesn’t? And I’m just shoving my way into their relationship again?”

“Good Lord! How have any of you ever been in a relationship?” Freddie’s words shocked and confused Brian, his feelings evident in his facial expression as he looked up to meet the singer’s gaze. “You need to _ talk  _ to each other, sort things out. Because clearly they’ve hit a bump in the road and I’m almost certain you’re involved.”

“First of all, we’re not in a relationship,” Brian gritted, now getting defensive. “And how are you so sure I’m involved? I thought you didn’t know what was going on.”

“I never said you were in a relationship, but whatever you want to call your little ‘agreement’ has its own moral consequences. And maybe I shouldn’t say this but as someone outside of this situation I could see how Roger was practically seething with anger the second you showed up. If that’s not an obvious sign you’re involved in their fight than I don’t know what is. I apologize if I’ve overstepped my boundaries in all of this but you three are starting to let it affect the band, which is a huge part of my life that I care deeply about. So don’t be cross with me, Brian, because I’m not your enemy in all of this.” With his expressive rant over, Freddie took a deep breath and peeled himself off of the wall to go back to his work. 

“Fred, wait,” Brian sighed, lighting putting a hand on the singer’s arm to stop his movements. Freddie clenched his jaw slightly and looked up to the guitarist, waiting for his friend to say something with one hand already wrapped around the doorknob. “I’m sorry. I’m just scared, alright? I have no idea what I’m doing with any of this.”

The singer seemed to contemplate the confession, his features softening as his mind constructed a response. “It’s fine, but there’s not much I can do for you. Like I told you the first time, the only way to resolve this is to actually speak about it. And as much as I appreciate you opening up to me, I’m not the person you really need to be telling this.” At the end of his sentence, Freddie gave the guitarist an affectionate look before disappearing into the control room and leaving Brian alone in the desolate hallway. Brian decided to linger in the hallway for a little longer, letting his mind run wild with all the implications of Freddie’s outburst.

_ This certainly confirms all my worst fears about the situation. I had no idea Roger was mad at me. Had I done something to upset him last night? Or did I do something to John and he was just being a protective boyfriend over me crossing some boundary I was unaware of? But John didn’t seem upset with me, dare I think he seemed happy when I came in the room this morning. Perhaps he knew I had done something wrong and was just trying to make me feel better about the impending doomful consequences of my actions. I’ve definitely screwed everything up, they’ll never want to sleep with me again. Maybe they never did and this was all some big trick to show me how ridiculous my impulse is to believe they’d ever want anything to do with me. I’ve been so enthralled with them ever since this whole thing began, I can’t believe I was so blind to think they’d reciprocate my feelings. God, they didn’t even know I’ve been falling for the both of them and now my heart will surely be broken forever once they kick me to the curb. And Freddie, my dear friend Freddie, will never see me in the same light once this all blows over. I’m such a fool why would I ever- _

The wretched creak of the door opening disrupted his train of thought and Brian sighed, shaking his head in the hopes of diminishing his intrusive ideas. He was struck speechless at the sight of John joining him in the hallway, the brunette trudging out the room with a broken look plainly spread across his face. Brian hardly had time to think of something to say to the bassist before Freddie completed the trio in the hallway, a similarly devastated look on his face. “I think it’s time you go home, boys,” the singer sighed, looking between his friends. “I’ll stay and work on some vocals, but I’m not sure we can get much more done without Roger.” The guitarists nodded and their slack body language tugged at his heart, so he decided to add, “Tomorrow’s a new day.”

Once Freddie slipped back into the control room for the last time that day, John started his journey towards the exit with his shoulders slumped and head hung low. Brian reluctantly followed the brunette at a few paces behind, not sure if his presence would be welcomed at the moment. The guitarist noticed the depletion of Roger’s car in the car park and hesitated in saying something as John made his way towards the pavement. “Hey John,” he softly called out, effectively pausing the bassist’s footsteps. “Do you need a ride home? It would be no trouble to drop you off at home.”

John only turned half-way, still averse to fully facing Brian in both a physical and emotional sense. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll just walk. Have a nice day, Bri.” His curt reply was all Brian received as John quickened his pace to disappear around a corner. 

Brian climbed into his car, letting out an obnoxious sigh and folding his arms to rest his head on the steering wheel. A seemingly normal day had quickly been flipped upside down, and he had no clue how to fix anything. As he tried to process all the emotions and conversations of the day, Freddie’s wise words kept bouncing around his mind.

_ The only way to resolve this is to actually speak about it. _

And that’s exactly what Brian intended to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the angst and I'm not super proud of this chapter but I wanted to get Brian's mindset in the story, so I hope it's not too bad.


	5. And Baby Even On Our Worst Nights I'm Into You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally things are coming to a head...enjoy the climax of all the angst. I promise it'll get better after this, so thanks for sticking with the story! :)
> 
> In case anyone was wondering, the chapter title is from the lyrics to "Still Into You" by Paramore.

Roger’s body seemed to float on auto-pilot as he slowly trudged around his shared flat, his mind still consumed by anger and disappointment for the situation he had found himself in. His footsteps felt almost as heavy as the half-empty bottle of liquor in his hand, and he decided to take a seat on the floor near the sofa once the room started spinning around him. In an attempt to lay down, his head came in contact with the large stack of records on the floor. The blonde hummed and shifted his body, curling up on the cold wood and clumsily reaching for one of the vinyls on the top of the hoard. He thrust his arms out above him the hold the record up, opening his eyes to scan the sleeve that was now effectively blocking the unnaturally harsh brightness shining from the ceiling light. The name seemed blurred in his inebriated state, his eyes not being able to focus on the text, but he could make out it was an album by The Beatles by the well-known picture behind the words. 

Ever since John had moved in with him years ago, their stockpile of records seemed to grow endlessly; their combined need for exploring new music while keeping their classic favourites turning the initial small pile of Roger’s into multiple stacks neatly scattered around the living room. Roger pondered who the particular record now in his grasp originally belonged to before setting it back down in favour of sitting up to knock back another swig of the evilly numbing alcohol. No amount of booze could take his mind off of John, even if this night he had tried very hard, and the simple question of ownership over a record quickly devolved into a messy look into his feelings. 

The pressed vinyl represented so much more than a compilation of songs recorded by some artist for two young men hopelessly in love to listen to in the privacy of their cramped, cheap flat to Roger: it actually represented everything about their relationship. It could obviously be used as a metaphor for how the boys got together, music being the thing to bring them together and persist as the glue forever jointing their life paths. But the simple drunk act of the blonde being unsure of who owned which records meant a whole lot more: their joint possessions mirroring their developed codependency in each other’s lives. No matter how much they fought or acted as if they didn’t want to see each other at times, it all meant nothing in the grander scheme of their coupling. They knew they were destined to end up together, but the new addition of their best friend and bandmate into the equation had seemed to throw an unsolvable wrench into those plans.

But now, Roger contemplated, he had royally messed everything up. He had let their imaginations and ambitions run wild and instead of enjoying the moment, as John apparently was, the drummer was now sat on the floor of his flat thoroughly pissed because he couldn’t figure out how to voice his feelings. In theory, it seemed simple to tell John that he also enjoyed Brian’s company but couldn’t help but feel jealous in his presence despite Brian usually equally dividing his attention between the couple. The addition of the guitarist could’ve been a good thing, and it was for the first few weeks, but Roger felt he had completely soured it with his possessiveness. 

His jumbled train of thought took a turn for the worse when he heard the familiar jingle of keys unlocking the door. John’s echoing footsteps into the flat reminded him of all the aggravation he had felt that day from watching Brian and John interact at the studio, and he frowned to himself once the noise suddenly stopped.

“Wanna tell me what’s really wrong?” John’s voice drifted over to Roger’s ears, and the blonde looked up from his seat on the floor to notice his boyfriend standing across the room with his arms folded. 

“Oh...nothing,” Roger sighed, laughing to himself over nothing. “Nothing at all, Johnny.”

“Have you just been drinking all day?” The harsh, cutting tone of John’s voice only fueled the strange mix of emotions Roger was currently feeling. 

“I’m allowed to  _ drink _ , I’m not a child.”

“Well you’ve sure been acting like one.”

Roger narrowed his eyes and awkwardly positioned himself to stand up, struggling a few times before succeeding and pointing a nagging finger at John. “And what the fuck does it matter to you?”

“Where is all this hostility coming from, Rog?” The blonde was too far gone to notice the strain in his partner’s voice, turning angrier at the absurd thought of John not being able to read his mind. “Did I do something wrong? We were fine this morning, what’s happened?”

“As if you really care.”

“Of course I care!” John strode closer the blonde, allowing Roger to properly see the brunette’s concerned face. “What has gotten into you?”

“Clearly not your cock because you’re so enthralled with getting fucked by Brian.” Roger smirked at the completion of his sentence, too wrapped up in the satisfaction of his cheeky answer to see the hurt immediately overtaking John’s features.

“Is that what this is all about? Brian?” 

Roger giggled at the inquiry, stopping only to let out a big hiccup, and placed a strong hand on John’s shoulder for support once he felt the room spinning once again. “What else would it be about?” He clutched at his stomach as his laughing continued, again failing to take into account the rigidity and silence from his boyfriend. 

“This isn’t a conversation to have when you’re pissed,” John sighed, not sharing in the humour of the situation. 

“I think this is as good a time as any,” Roger replied, looking up at John with his best attempt at puppy-dog eyes. “How come you don’t love me as much anymore, Deaky?” The bassist struggled to come up with an answer in a timely fashion, absolutely shocked at the shift in tone of his partner, so the drummer continued while lifting his head up to lock eyes with John. “What has Brian got that I don’t?”

“I-I don’t...where did you even get that idea?”

“You two have a special connection, I can see it when you’re together. It’s like I don’t even exist when he’s around. You want to be with him, don’t you?”

John felt horrible as the sincere words tumbled from the blonde’s mouth, he wasn’t sure whether he should actually engage in the conversation but ultimately gave in with a deep sigh. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that actually, I’ve thought that-”

“So I’m kicked out to the curb then? I’m of no use anymore?” That unpredictable drunk anger kicked in again and John regretted giving in to the blonde’s questions.

“Let me finish, Rog. I wanted to propose that we add Brian into our relationship, if that’s something you’d both want as well. I’m not trying to get rid of you at all.” It was a bland explanation of his feelings, but John knew he had to try and patch the situation before another one of Roger’s mood swings. The blonde seemed to absorb the proposition and blinked wildly at John, his eyes darting around the bassist’s face before opening and closing his mouth a few times.

“So we need someone new? I’m not enough for you anymore?” The blonde finally spoke, shifting his gaze down to the floor and dropping his hand from John’s shoulder. 

“It’s just an idea. That’s not-”

“I get it, John. You’ve made yourself very clear.”

“No, I haven’t,” John grumbled, now also getting upset. “I can’t believe we’re even doing this right now, you’re absolutely plastered and haven’t even told me what you’re exactly upset about!”

“Maybe I don’t want to!”

“Well how the fuck am I supposed to fix it if you won’t even tell me what’s wrong!”

“I’m the problem! You’re the problem! Everything is the bloody problem!” Roger’s face was beginning to turn red with the lack of oxygen between his outbursts, but John wasn’t about to throw in the towel on this argument. 

"You're not even making sense at this point. This is getting us nowhere!"

"Maybe we have nowhere else to go!"

"You're acting like a complete wanker, Rog."

"Apparently I'm not the wanker for you anymore." John scoffed at the double entendre, finally deciding to put an end to things and storming off into the kitchen. Roger stumbled his way through the living room, using the wall for support along the way, and made it to their bedroom door after what felt like hours. He slipped himself inside the dark room, slamming the door with as much force as possible to convey to John that wherever he was, Roger was still upset at the outcome of their argument. He unceremoniously flopped face first onto the middle of the bed, his mind too clogged with the irrational emotions running through it to convince his body to do otherwise. 

Time seemed to simultaneously speed up and slow down for Roger as he turned on his back to stare up at the ceiling, trying desperately not to cry or get sick. He figured he’d better turn his head to the side in case he dozed off, the other alternative of getting sick on himself and possibly choking not sounding too pleasing. The act felt strangely sobering and the sight of John’s rings on the bedside table glistening in the pale moonlight wet his eyes despite his best efforts to keep his cool over something as simple as his boyfriend’s discarded jewelry. He let out a shaky sigh, suppressing a sob in the chance that John would hear him and allowed the tears to stream in warm tracks down his cheeks. He let his eyes slip shut and must have fallen asleep because the loud honk of a car horn outside startled the blonde awake. There was still a slight buzz running through his veins but the quarrel and short rest did wonders to his inebriated state, and he glanced over to the clock to notice it was only half past one in the morning. Roger groaned and begrudgingly sat up, shuffling out of the dim bedroom to fetch himself a glass of water.

The luminous light still shining from the living room distracted him from his original task and he took a detour to peek into the room. John was laid out along the couch with an album resting on his gently rising and falling chest while the actual record continued to spin as the needle hovered near the label, the songs long over and the only sound left in the room being the soft whir of the machine still doing its job in vain. Roger observed the sleeping form of his partner, quietly padding over to the couch, taking into account his softened features and dried tear tracks along his face. It tore at his heart to realise the emotional damage he’d caused in just a few minutes, cursing himself for being the reason John was currently asleep on the couch. They were supposed to be partners, standing together through good times and bad instead of being the source of each others problems. The blonde knew he had messed up big time, they both had honestly, and this drunken fight had only been the beginning of finding a solution. 

The drummer contemplated turning on his heel to spend the rest of the night brooding in his room, but decided to let it go and took the few steps across the room to switch off the record player. He carefully slipped the record from John’s hands and lazily threw it onto the floor next to the sofa, pausing to stare down at the relaxed body in front of him. Roger couldn’t help but smile at the ridiculous nature of their current situation and sighed, knowing that if he were to leave John on the couch that he’d never get to sleep. Maybe it was a little absurd, but any time John had left town to visit his parents even just for a few days, Roger found it impossible to get any amount of rest; it was as if the empty space in the bed next to him plagued his thoughts and he needed to physical presence of John to give him peace of mind. He’d never admit it to anyone, even John, he mused as he scooped up his boyfriend in his arms. “God, you’re heavier than I remember,” Roger whispered, cradling the bassist like a baby and starting his way back to their bedroom. He was too focused on not dropping John that he didn’t see the small smile on the brunette’s face at the comment. 

Once he had softly placed John onto the mattress, Roger laid himself down behind the bassist’s back that was faced in his direction. He almost automatically curled up to the younger man but caught himself before doing so, not sure if his close contact would be welcomed after the disagreement. Instead, Roger scooted as close to John as possible without actually touching and perched himself up on one elbow. He cautiously moved John’s hair to rest behind his shoulder and indulged himself in leaning down to press a lingering kiss on the brunette’s neck. “I’m so sorry, my love. I've been a right prat but we’ll figure out a way to fix this,” Roger whispered into his skin before concluding his statement with another chaste kiss. He decided to roll over onto his back, not wanting to tempt himself into invading John’s space, and willed himself to get some sleep. The blonde wasn’t sure how long it had been, but as he was drifting off a soft voice spoke into the quiet air one final time that night.

“I’m sorry too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologizes for the updates two days in a row, I was just too excited to get this chapter out! In contrary to the last one, I really liked writing this one so I hope you've enjoyed reading it.


	6. I've Been Wrong But I'll Learn To Be Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering, the chapter title is from the lyrics to "It's Late" by Queen.

It was probably the strangest morning of John’s life as his mind began to stir, refusing to let him escape his problems in the void of sleep; he immediately recognized the scratchy feel of having slept in his day clothes from the previous day and the absence of Roger’s body pressed against his. He turned to look over his shoulder, relieved to find the blonde still in the bed, just curled up on the complete opposite side and their positions reminded John of the pit of guilt that had permanently settled within him for the past few days. The bassist contemplated rolling over to lay as they normally did, but ultimately decided against it and resentfully got up from the mattress to change out of his uncomfortable garments. He occasionally glanced back at his sleeping boyfriend as he changed, looking for any sign that he had also awoken, but the drummer never stirred and John quietly escaped to the kitchen once he was satisfied with his outfit. 

The ruthless sun had returned with its insufferable heat and was already rapidly warming their tiny kitchen, shining brightly through the windows to naturally lighten the space. John sighed to himself as he turned the burner under the kettle on and was about to sit down when the phone hanging on the wall came to life with its high-pitched ringing. He trudged over to it, wondering who would be calling at such an early hour on their day off as he picked it up.

“Hello?” He inwardly cringed at the rough, sleepiness of his voice as he spoke into the phone. The other side of the line remained completely silent, so he repeated his greeting a couple more times before deciding to hang up when he still received no response. The one-sided phone call seemed strange, but he quickly forgot it in favor of focusing on the bigger problem plaguing his mind as he settled himself in one of the rickety chairs around the small table. 

John wasn’t sure if his fight with Roger the night before was for the better or for worse, because while both of their true feelings had mostly been revealed, there were many things left unsaid. The bassist should’ve felt relief at finally expressing what was on his mind but the way Roger reacted made him feel worse, but he couldn’t blame the drunken mind of the blonde for not hearing him out. He knew he should’ve waited, but the heat and anger of the moment allowed him to just blurt it out. As much as John was upset with himself, clearly Roger wasn’t completely in the right based on the bitter words he spat out during the fight. Apparently they had both been hiding things and John should’ve seen it coming, the awkwardness and strange behavior from both of them bubbling up to come to a head and leave them hurting and confused in the wake of their stubbornness. He knew Roger was always a bit possessive over him, all his bandmates practically treated him as if he was their child to shield from the world, but John now scolded himself for allowing his mind to get wrapped up in their situation with Brian without caring about how everybody else felt about it. But who could really blame him, he thought, for thinking things were fine when all three of them willingly shagged on a regular basis without complaint. Even still, John failed to realise their sessions went without complaint because they were all too stubborn to be the weak one to compromise their masculinity to talk about their feelings.

The whistle of the kettle brought the brunette back to his current situation and he stood back up, shuffling over to the counter. Once the stove was turned off and he had put together his tea, John thoughtlessly grabbed a glass from the cabinet to fill it with water. He was used to the motions after nursing Roger through many nasty hangovers and was about to reenter the bedroom with the water and aspirin in hand when he caught of glimpse of the mostly empty liquor bottle discarded in the hallway. The image flooded his mind with memories of the argument, not that he hadn’t been thinking about it all morning, and effectively stopped his movement. The bassist wasn’t sure if he was ready to face the situation that possibly awaited him in their bedroom head on and hoped the drummer would still be asleep so he could drop off the items and delay the inevitable for a little longer. 

Fate had other plans for him, though, and he nervously gulped when he saw the blonde perched on the edge of the bed, facing the window with his back to the door. The heat must’ve also gotten to him because Roger had shed most of his clothes to sit cross-legged in just his boxers. John bit his lip and made his way around the bed to place the glass and pills on the bedside table, trying his hardest not to make eye contact with his boyfriend. He did, however, notice the blonde looked more miserable and drained than he’d ever had and it made John feel even worse for trying to avoid their problems. Roger said nothing, just continued staring forward and sitting motionless and John was surprised to feel a light hand on his wrist as he started to make his way back out of the room. The brunette finally looked up to meet Roger’s eyes already gazing at him and automatically understood the silent plea written all over his partner’s face. 

John slowly sat himself down onto the mattress, mirroring Roger’s position and leaving a small sliver of space between them, unsure if his contact was welcomed after their separated sleeping positions. That doubt was quickly diminished as the blonde scooted over to press their thighs together and rested his head on the brunette’s shoulder. John appreciated the gesture and wrapped one arm gingerly around his boyfriend’s waist to rest his hand on his hip, just above the hem of his underwear, and they both basked in the stillness of the morning as they thought of what to say.

“Why do you even put up with me?” Roger’s voice cut through the silence, sounding smaller than ever and utterly exhausted. 

“I could ask the same,” John softly responded, taking on Roger’s previous role of staring out the window. He felt Roger’s gentle laugh against his shoulder and couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his mouth.

“That’s not an answer.” Even in his state of disarray, Roger would never allow a cheeky reply to slip by without being said.

“You know the answer,” John shot back, unable to not participate in the banter currently being used as a distraction from their real issues. Another silence fell upon them as the gravity of things left unsaid the night before hovered over the room, but John decided to bite the bullet and start what neither of them were totally prepared to discuss. “I know we both would just rather stay silent and go on as if nothing happened, but I think Freddie will actually have our heads if we don’t work this out.”

Roger let out a short breath and lifted his head to shift his body, now sitting to face John and took the brunette’s hand that hadn’t relocated to rest on his other hip in his own to trace along John’s fingers and various rings as he thought of a response. The blonde appreciated his boyfriend’s patience and brought the hand up to his lips, delicately placing a kiss to the bassist’s knuckles before placing them between their bodies. “I’m not completely against it, you know,” Roger muttered, staring down at their joined hands.

“Against what?”

“Adding Brian to our relationship.” Roger looked up to miss John’s gaze that also fell down towards the bed beneath them at the blonde’s clarification.

“Rog, last night wasn’t the right time to bring that up and you don’t have to take that suggestion to heart. I was only thinking about myself and-”

“It’s alright, Deaky.” John looked back up and was about to fight back again, but Roger intercepted him before he could. “Let me explain...please.” The bassist seemed to very much want to say something, but ultimately allowed his partner to continue. “Maybe I’m not as upfront about it as you, but I also like when we get together with Brian. But when I see you two together sometimes I just feel this indescribable jealousy and yesterday it felt like I didn’t even exist to you two in the studio. Drunk me might’ve been a little dramatic in what I said, and I’m sorry for that, but I twisted my insecurities into anger. I probably sound like a big baby right now, but I’d like to have Brian around too. I’m just scared you’ll forget me once he’s in the picture.” 

Roger was surprised when John lurched forward, wrapping him in a tight hug instead of saying anything in response. He was nervous that he’d said something wrong or somehow upset the brunette even more when he felt a few tears wet his bare skin. The confusion was evident on Roger’s face once John pulled back from the embrace and laughed to himself as he wiped the spilled tears from his cheeks. 

“Sorry for crying, but god, I thought you hated me,” John’s voice came out shaky but the smile of pure delight on his face contradicted it.

“I’d never hate you, you know that” Roger smiled back, reaching up to push a strand of the bassist’s hair behind his ear. 

“I know, but I hope  _ you  _ know I’d never forget about you in any relationship. Ever.”

“Yeah, it feels stupid to even say it out loud,” Roger admitted, looking down in embarrassment.

“Telling me what you’re feeling is never stupid, Roger. We probably wouldn’t be having this conversation if we both weren’t so stubborn.” The blonde smiled at the statement, unable to resist in shifting his gaze back up to see John copy his grin. “But you’re really open to the idea? You’re not just saying that to make me happy?”

“Well we both definitely need to work on communication...but I’m willing to give it a try.”

John enveloped the blonde in another bone-crushing hug, this time succeeding in tumbling them both down onto the mattress. The bassist had settled to lie on top of his boyfriend, his arms still wrapped around the older man and his head resting on his chest. “Now we just have to ask Brian about it.”

“How are we supposed to do that with you on top of me?” The harshness of Roger’s question was undercut by his hand coming up to pet at John’s hair.

“Hmm, I’m actually quite comfortable for now.”

“I’m not complaining either.”

“Oh, I’m not heavier than you remember?” John lifted his head to look up at the drummer at his question, waiting for the realisation to set in. He couldn’t help the giggle that escaped his lips once the puzzle pieces fell into place for Roger and his jaw dropped open.

“You were awake last night! And you let me carry you to bed, you tosser!”

John continued laughing at the reaction moving to hover over the blonde, bracketing his arms around Roger’s head and smiling over him. “I only woke up once you picked me up,” he defended, still trying to hold back at Roger’s bewilderment.

“You’re lucky I’m so strong and didn’t drop you,” Roger joked, his ego poking through the conversation. “And I definitely would’ve if I knew you were awake.”

“Sure,” John replied, dragging out the first vowel. “Is that why you’re under me right now?”

“I’m just letting you take control, you know I’m the more dominant one between us.”

“Really? Because I would describe you as more of a bossy bottom than dominant.”

“John!” Roger smiled, lightly smacking the brunette’s arm. “Where is all this cheekiness coming from?”

“I don’t know,” John sighed, leaning back down to rest his head on the blonde’s chest again. “I missed really talking to you yesterday.”

“I’ve missed talking to you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder, I've never been in a poly relationship (or a monogamous one if we're being honest here) so if anything is really off or doesn't seem realistic, I apologize! I'm just trying my best to write a cute story out here lol


	7. Nothing Else Feels Right Without Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for making Brian so dramatic but anxiety can be like that sometimes, and I need some substance for this story lol
> 
> In case anyone was wondering, the chapter title is from the lyrics to "Without Love" by Bon Jovi.

There was no plausible rationale for Brian’s anxiety over the situation, but that didn’t stop his mind from dwelling on Freddie’s words still lingering in his mind. In fact, it was only one sentence that left a searing, guilt-ridden impression on him for many hours through the night refusing to let him catch any sleep:  _ If that’s not an obvious sign you’re involved in their fight than I don’t know what is.  _ The phrase hesitantly spoke from the singer was driving him mad, he had no idea what the couple were even fighting about so how could he have any major involvement? 

His first idea was to pay his younger bandmates a visit later that night after he had watched John walk away from the studio, figuring it would be easiest to get the problem out of the way instead of letting it fester into something bigger. But the idea was easier said than done, and each time he geared himself up to leave his flat, the crippling fear of their blissful bubble of hook-ups popping to a dismal, abrupt end stopped him in his tracks. 

That only left the guitarist to stew in his feelings for the remainder of the day, spiraling into an overthinking mess as he lay fruitlessly in his bed in order to find some sort of mental respite. He decided to roll out of bed once the blazing sun started peeking through the summer clouds into his room, feeling absolutely exhausted after having caught only a few winks of sleep that were always quickly interrupted by his wandering mind. 

On his way out of the small bedroom, a light blue t-shirt sitting in his laundry basket caught his eye and silently beckoned him to cross the room in order to inspect the garment. He didn’t immediately recognize it as his own but the answer became clear once he picked it up: it was an old shirt Roger had left in exchange for one of Brian’s a night long ago when they were thoroughly pissed and decided it was best for the blonde to stay the night. Brian never wore it, his lanky frame not being able to properly fill out the tight fabric, but he could still remember that night as clear as day. Roger had come over to tell Brian that he had feelings for their new bassist and had no idea what to do about, scared out of his wits on how their other friends would react, so they did what any young soon-to-be rock ‘n roller would do - get absolutely plastered to forget their worries. But the guitarist knew this wouldn’t blow over for his friend after listening to the drummer gush about their youngest member the entire night and drunkenly suggested Roger just take his chances and tell John how he felt. 

And now, years later, standing in the stuffy heat of his room while holding the faded fabric in his hands, he felt like a proper idiot for getting involved in any of it. If anyone would’ve been in the room with him, he would’ve blamed the tears that pricked in his eyes on the lack of rest and recently surmounting emotional stress as the heart-warming memory filled his mind. He was mad at himself, mainly for thinking his friends would even want anything long-term with him but also for allowing himself to be so enraptured with their strange agreement that he couldn’t even see the problems weaseling their way in until they had made themselves known all at once and turning the couple against him. 

He knew something had to budge now and his mind had settled on the idea that Roger and John must be done with him and had no idea how to let him down easy, resulting in a rift between them that Brian decided he’d try to put an end to. The surge of bittersweet confidence had the guitarist dropping the shirt and scurrying to the phone, eager to start the mending of the couple even if it meant Brian would be getting hurt in the end.

_ “Hello?” _

John’s sleepy voice coming over the receiver quickly diminished that confidence, and Brian found himself speechless. He never found the courage to respond and start a conversation that would probably ruin his life, sighing into the disconnect tone and hanging up the phone after the other side gave up on him. 

Brian decided he’d try again later, not sure if he’d ever be totally ready to confront them and his greatest fear of being dumped by them. He felt like a fool, the trio hadn’t even properly defined what they were doing for the past few weeks and he was almost in tears at the thought of them not wanting to continue it. The guitarist felt that he should’ve seen it coming: the couple had been perfectly fine for years without him, so why on Earth would they need Brian to continue that? It was awfully selfish, he thought, wanting to jump in the middle of an established relationship and expecting them to let him hang around forever. Brian wasn’t even sure he wanted to be in a proper relationship with the other men, but recently the days and nights spent without their company felt dull and lacking in the human connection the guitarist so greatly and subconsciously craved. 

He dragged himself into his quaint living room and pulled out his Red Special, determined to put his steadfast depressive feelings up to some good use. He mindlessly messed around with familiar chords, playing random melodies that didn’t exactly make useable song material but helped distract his overwhelmed mind for a large chunk of time. A sharp knock on the door woke him from the sleep he hadn’t realised he had slipped into and quickly snapped his head up to glance at the usually forgotten clock hanging on the wall. It was well into the afternoon, which was also obvious by the paling sunlight shining onto the hardwood floors, and he cursed himself for wasting the day away and set aside his beloved guitar, scrambling to the door. His hand stopped on the door handle as his mind finally caught up with his body and he realised he was still dressed in his pyjamas. 

“Who is it?” Brian yelled through the wood, not willing to chance his old landlady catching a glimpse of him dressed almost scantily. 

“It’s me and John,” Roger’s familiar voice responded. “We need to talk to you.” 

He heard Roger gasp and assumed John had physically done something to him before the brunette corrected the statement. “Roger and I just want to ask you about something.” 

Brian reluctantly opened the door, careful to try and hide his large frame behind it, giving the couple a pathetic half-smile as they entered his flat. Despite his best efforts, the men obviously saw him still dressed in his nightwear as they congregated in the living room and Roger gave him a once over, winking once they were all seated. The guitarist nervously looked between the younger men, sitting on a chair pulled from the kitchen opposite from them on the sofa, the brunette and blonde clearly silently arguing over who would start the conversation.

“I think I know what you’re going to say,” Brian sighed, looking down at his anxiously fidgeting hands in his lap.

“You do?” John’s calm voice answered, the confusion clear in his tone.

“Yeah, I’m not a child...you don’t have to break it to me gently.”

“Break it to you?” Roger added, also now evidently confused. 

“You’re done with me, right? This was all a big mistake and you just want to stay a couple without me bugging you all the time.” When the room remained silent, Brian looked up to see his friends utterly perplexed and looking almost disappointed. “Look, this doesn’t have to be awkward, I’ll just keep out of the picture and you guys can go back to-”

“Brian,” John’s usually quiet voice commanded everyone’s attention in the room with its authority, “just shut up for a second.” The guitarist scoffed at John’s unusual demand, causing Roger to let out a small laugh. “We wanted to ask if you’d like to make whatever this is between us more...permanent?”

“Permanent?” Now it was Brian’s turn to act confused, the inquiry blindsiding all of the thoughts that had plagued his mind for the past twenty-four hours. 

“Sorry, maybe that’s not the right word,” John laughed. “I’m just nervous.”

“You don’t have to be nervous around me, Deaky,” Brian grinned back and let out a loud breath. “This is insane, I thought-”

“Yeah, we know what you thought,” Roger teased, sticking out a leg to gently kick at Brian’s. “But you haven’t answered the question...would you be interested?”

“You’d really want me to?”

Both men nodded in response and John decided to add, “Only if you want to, of course.”

“I’d want nothing more,” Brian breathed, still not convinced this conversation was actually happening. “But how would it even work? And the world isn’t exactly accepting of gay couples, let alone three men in a relationship. Are we gonna have to keep it a secret?”

“I know it’s a lot,” John reassured with a gentle smile. “But we’re willing to figure it all out together with you if you are.” 

Brian anxiously looked between the two men and he knew in his heart there was no way he’d be able to turn down the opportunity.

“Come on, Bri,” Roger grinned, “whaddaya say about being our boyfriend?”

“Our lives are going to be extremely hectic,” Brian sighed, looking to the ceiling before returning his gaze to his bandmates, “but how could I say no?”

The three men all stood up and Brian closed the small distance between them to bring the younger men into an odd but now comfortable three-way embrace. In fact, he hugged them with such force that it sent the trio tumbling back into the couch in a fit of giggles. Brian moved to sit properly but was stopped by Roger tugging him sideways to lay across both of their laps. His long form didn’t properly fit lengthwise across the couch, his feet dangling off the arm while his head rested against the other, egging on their raucous laughter. 

Once the hilarity died down, the tension in their current position became apparent as Brian looked between his partners. John had a light hand resting on Brian’s thighs and Roger had brought a hand up to gently play with Brian’s hair. The silence filling the room was no longer awkward, the air now filled with something else each man felt growing amongst them.

“You know,” John quietly spoke, gaining the attention of the room, “I don’t believe we’ve ever done anything at Brian’s place.”

“Hm, I don’t think we have,” Roger slowly replied. “Maybe we should make this new relationship more official.”

“Already off to such a naughty start,” Brian laughed, trying to convey that he was interested in the proposition despite his teasing.

“Oh, you better get used to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hella excited to get back to writing smut for the next chapter, I'm way better at it than drama ;)


	8. Oh How Lucky One Man Can Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brian may be topping in this story but he's definitely a sub and y'all can fight me on it.
> 
> In case anyone was wondering, the chapter title is from the lyrics to "Don't Think Of Me" by Dido.

“And how exactly am I going to get used to it?” Brian smirked, enjoying the light-hearted atmosphere now filling the room. 

“We have a few ideas,” John smiled back and moved his hand farther up Brian’s thigh to rest just next to where the guitarist really wanted it to go. Before Brian had a chance to respond, his breath caught in his throat as Roger smoothed his hand down their newest partner’s face to slowly trace along his jaw. He almost felt a flush of embarrassment as his thin boxers began to rapidly and very noticeably tighten, but he figured if they were going to be in a proper relationship now that it was surely the last thing to feel shameful about. The lustful looks on both John and Roger’s faces also helped to dissipate his worries, if the feeling of their own excitement underneath him didn’t give away their similar desire. He unsuccessfully tried to stop a stutter of his hips as John agonizingly ran his finger along Brian’s thigh, eliciting a small laugh from Roger as he and the blonde stared into each others eyes. 

“Well for starters, why don’t we take this somewhere more comfortable?” Roger spoke, still looking down at the guitarist. Brian eagerly nodded and let out a small huff once the brunette retracted his hand, feeling the loss of contact more tortuous than the provoking yet fruitless touches. He ungracefully rolled off of their laps and was about to lead them to his room when he noticed neither of the other men had gotten off the couch, and turned around with a quizzical look. 

“Come on, boys,” Brian laughed, wrapping his arms self-consciously around his bare chest as the younger men plainly observed his scrawny form. “Are you just going to stare at me all night?”

“The view is pretty nice,” Roger answered, finally heaving himself off of the furniture. Brian rolled his eyes at the comment and continued to his room, knowing both men were following this time. They had been in this situation many times before, but now with their worries out of the way as they gathered in Brian’s room, it felt different - almost as if there was no longer a forbidden secrecy laced within their actions.

“Well,” Brian sighed, sitting himself down on the edge of mattress, “are you gonna show me any of those ideas?”

John laughed at the question and slotted himself between the guitarist’s legs, leaning down to softly connect their lips. Brian easily let the bassist take control and sighed into the kiss as John’s tongue explored his mouth and he felt the bed dip beside him. Roger’s light touch on his arm only made the strain in his pants tighter and he fisted a hand in John’s shirt, pulling the brunette impossibly closer to him. They pulled back, completely breathless, but John was given almost no time to properly stand up before Brian held tightly onto his shirt, keeping their faces inches apart. “I think I have an idea, actually,” Brian breathed, darting his tongue out to lick at his swollen lips. 

“You do now?” The drummer spoke into his ear, his warm breath tickling down his neck. 

“Can I fuck both of you?” Brian heard Roger’s breath stutter at his offer and watched a sly smirk appear on the bassist’s face. 

“I dunno Brian,  _ can _ you?” John’s mocking question made Brian’s cock twitch at the prospect of proving the youngest man wrong.

“Why don’t you find out?” Brian teased back, pressing another chaste kiss to the brunette’s lips before shuffling himself back on the mattress and out of John’s reach. Roger took the opportunity to swing a leg over the guitarist to situate himself in his lap, fervently pressing their lips together. They both moaned into the kiss once Roger shifted his hips, rubbing their straining groins together and Brian ran his hands up the blonde’s sides under his shirt to silently get the message across that it needed to go. The drummer gladly removed the garment, disconnecting their lips for only a split second before resuming their activity. Roger eventually ended the kiss with a final tug on Brian’s bottom lip and the guitarist turned his head to look at John, giving the blonde an opportunity to lightly suck a mark into his neck. 

Brian smiled at the sight of John standing next to the bed, now dressed only in his pants, and reached out an inviting hand out to him. The bassist quickly took the offer and giggled as Brian tugged him onto his knees on the bed. Roger took a break from putting all of his attention on Brian to lean over and pull John into a sloppy kiss, softly pulling on his long hair to do so. Feeling bold, Brian interrupted the moment by roughly palming over the present bulge in Roger’s pants, making the blonde pull away from John with a loud whine and roll of his hips. The guitarist winked at the drummer, moving his hand to pull down Roger’s zipper and laughing at the lack of fabric underneath.

“Cheeky,” John smiled with a half-hearted eye roll.

“I see you came prepared,” Brian joked, beginning to tug at the blonde’s trousers. Instead of giving a verbal response, Roger just grinned and moved himself off Brian’s lap to properly remove the last of his clothes. The tallest took the brief break to rummage through his bedside drawer, fishing out a bottle of lube as Roger situated himself back on the bed.

“You keep lube in your room?” John asked, pointing at the bottle in Brian’s hand. 

“Yeah...well, I mean,” Brian stuttered, shamefully casting his eyes down to his lap, “I bought it once we started shagging - just in case, I guess.”

“Oh don’t be so embarrassed, I think it’s sort of cute,” John smiled as he took the bottle from the guitarist’s hands. “Well since you’re the least dressed, you want to go first, Roger?”

“Yes,” Roger enthusiastically replied, the desire obvious in his eyes. “As much as I enjoy all this banter, I’m dying to get on with it.”

“Patience, Rog,” John sighed, scooting past Brian to sit behind the blonde who had impatiently positioned himself on all fours. “Patience.”

“Oh fuck patience, I-” Roger’s protest was abruptly stopped by his own quiet gasp, surprised by the feeling of John’s slick finger entering his body. He hadn’t even noticed the brunette open the bottle and John gave him no time to adjust, his long, searching finger poking at his prostate thanks to years of practice. The blonde turned his head towards Brian to find the guitarist was already looking at him, a smug smile spread across his face, and pursed his lips out. Brian held back a laugh at the gesture and leant forward to give into the drummer’s demands, not caring about the uncomfortable angle that would definitely give him a neck cramp later. 

“We don’t have sex for  _ one _ night and you act like you haven’t been touched in years,” John said with a curl of his finger, making Roger’s arms buckle a little.

“A man has his needs,” Roger sighed after pulling back from Brian to hang his head between his arms, purposefully clenching his muscles around the bassist’s finger.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met somebody so insatiable,” Brian added to the conversation, flashing the blonde a wicked smile in return to the glare he received.

“Wow, already catching on so fast and we’ve only been in a relationship for a few minutes,” John replied, quirking an eyebrow at the oldest in the trio. Before Roger could say something in his own defense, John pressed another finger against his entrance to effectively make the drummer’s breath catch in his throat. The brunette didn’t stop there though, sneaking an additional finger into Roger’s hole, the blonde’s choked moan overpowering the mundane silence of the room. “You alright?” John caringly asked, knowing that as much as he loved to push his partner that each others comfort and safety always came first.

“Yeah, just wasn’t expecting that,” Roger laughed, turning his head back to give John a reassuring smile. “Please keep going, I don’t want to have to start begging.”

“Fine, but only because I don’t want to torment Brian any longer,” John replied with a pump of his fingers, the squelching noise drowned out by Roger’s low groan of content. “We’ll leave the begging for another time.” John winked at Brian after his statement, causing a faint blush to creep up on the guitarist’s cheeks at the possibility; he felt the blush deepen as he thought not of Roger begging for anything, but the idea of John ordering him around and making him beg for their attention as well. Brian decided to tuck that possible kink away for later, instead focusing on the situation already in front of him as John pulled his fingers from the blonde, presumably deeming him stretched enough. 

“You should prep Deaky,” Roger suggested at the guitarist, laying down on his side on the bed and propping himself up on an elbow. Brian looked at John, his unsureness being quickly calmed when the bassist nodded, hastily taking his pants off, and handed him the bottle before moving to lie on his back next to Roger. 

“You don’t have to be nervous,” John mimicked Brian’s earlier words as he slipped a pillow under his hips, lewdly spreading his legs apart to present himself to the guitarist. Brian smiled at the affirmation, squirting the cold substance onto his fingers and placing himself between the bassist’s legs. Roger hooked a finger under John’s chin, effectively tilting his head sideways in order to gently press their lips together as Brian pressed his index finger against John’s entrance. The oldest knew he was still the most inexperienced one, even if Roger and John tried their hardest not to make him feel like it, and he hesitated when he felt John’s muscles tense around the intrusion. John sensed his uncertainty and pushed his hips down in a silent plea for the guitarist to keep going as his mouth stayed connected to the blonde’s. Brian slowly pumped his finger, his own chest starting to tighten as he watched the two younger men below him act as if they’d never get to kiss each other again. 

John eventually broke away from the drummer with a deep sigh, turning his attention back up towards his other partner. “Hurry up, Bri,” he whined, pushing his hips down again. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna break.”

“Who’s needy now?” Roger mocked, tucking a strand of the brunette’s hair stuck to his face behind his ear. 

“Piss off,” John muttered, pulling the blonde into a rough kiss that ended up being more of a clacking of teeth ending with a harsh bite on Roger’s lip. The drummer held back a smirk when John loudly moaned at the feeling of Brian adding a second finger, his short-lived anger being quickly forgotten. The guitarist worked up a faster rhythm, having John easily devolving the youngest man into a moaning mess and asking Brian to add a third finger - a request to which the latter happily complied. “Okay, okay,” John breathed as Brian started to slow his pace after a few moments of making sure the bassist was thoroughly stretched. “I think I’m good.”

Giving John a chance to catch his breath, Brian finally took off his own pants and shuffled the short distance to kneel between Roger’s legs, smiling down at the blonde. “You ready, Rog?” 

“I’ve only been waiting all night,” Roger smiled back as he watched the guitarist slick up his cock, Brian letting a small laugh escape his lips at the reply. The tallest took pity on his friend, recently turned boyfriend, and pressed his cock against the blonde’s entrance - his hesitancy still getting in the way of their situation. As always, Roger wiped away his worries and wrapped his legs around the guitarist, encouraging him to let go and get on with it.

Their shared moans filled the room as Brian conscientiously entered his partner, the curly-haired man letting out a long sigh once he bottomed out. He immediately regretted his semi-bet with John, the tight feeling of Roger’s body around him already making it hard not to come undone. He gritted his teeth once the blonde gave him the go-ahead, going slower than usual in order to stave off his own orgasm. Roger didn’t seem to mind though, letting out small, high-pitched noises with every roll of Brian’s hips, his sweaty body arching off the mattress and hand nearest John searching for purchase in the younger man once the angle was just right and Brian’s cock brushed against his prostate. The pair locked eyes and Brian couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth as he thought about the situation: years ago he would’ve never imagined that the crazy blonde bloke from his college band would be dating their shy final addition and now both men wanting him to join their relationship, the drummer underneath him while the bassist waited patiently next to them for his turn. He leaned down to give Roger a chaste kiss on the lips, sealing the reality he currently found himself in, and reached over to John to do the same. 

The noise that came from Roger’s mouth when John wrapped a steady hand around the blonde’s cock was sinful, and Brian almost thought he’d have to give in right then. A bright flush spread down the drummer’s chest as John’s hand movements synced up with Brian’s thrusts, and he squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment at how close he was in such little time. Brian could feel Roger’s body tense as he tried to delay the inevitable, small, laboured whimpers complementing his body movements. A gentle caress of his face by John’s hand had the blonde finally caving in, his climax ripping a soft scream from his throat as his release coated the brunette’s hand and his own stomach. It felt impossible for Brian to hold off his orgasm as Roger clenched around him, the guitarist letting out his own groan as the heat pooling inside him threatened to spill over. Once the drummer’s breathing evened out and he opened his eyes with a dopey smile, Brian gently pulled out and pressed a gentle kiss to Roger’s cheek. 

It seemed his new boyfriends were trying to kill him as John laid next to a boneless Roger, bringing his hand up to his mouth and locking eyes with the guitarist before licking at the cooling mess covering his fingers. Brian instinctively moved back over to the bassist, his eyes fluttering shut when John brought the same hand he had just been lapping at to wrap around his cock. “I don’t think I’ll last long,” Brian quietly admitted.

“Don’t leave me hanging, now, Bri,” John spoke back in a low tone, causing the taller man to reopen his eyes and see the fading patience written all over the brunette’s face. 

Brian couldn’t deny the request, having been teetering over the edge for a while now, and hastily, but still carefully, slid his aching cock into the younger man below him. John sighed as Brian entered him fully and his blonde boyfriend curled up to him, grazing a hand over his now glistening chest. The slick heat of John’s body on his had Brian dangerously close, stilling inside the bassist for a few moments before gathering the courage to start his movements. The sight and sounds of John underneath him encouraged Brian to go all out, his thrusts deep and fast - the complete opposite of how he treated Roger moments ago. The brunette seemed to be enjoying it too, his unsuccessfully held-back moans mixed with the dull slap of their skin colliding filling the room. Brian knew his release was close and refused to deny himself the pleasure, knowing he’d have many more chances to hold back down the road, and dipped down to bury his face in the bassist’s neck to stifle his loud groan as he released into the pliant body beneath him. The feelings of Brian’s release inside him had John finishing with a soft moan, the warm substance hitting both of their stomachs. 

Brian never wanted to move, the feeling of still being inside John while Roger petted at his now matted curls, but when the brunette gently tapped him on the shoulder, he slowly pulled out to flop down on John’s other side. The three sat in silence as usual, but this time there was no quiet worrying about all the fears that generally came with their hookups. They were in a relationship now, proper boyfriends, and they all knew there was absolutely nothing that could ruin the moment. Brian turned on his side to see two pairs of loving eyes already staring back at him, grinning before he spoke.

“I can definitely get used to this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't apologize for updating two days in a row this time...but I will say sorry if this wasn't the most exciting smut, I've been writing angst and I've gotta get back into it! I still hope you enjoyed! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! Any feedback is appreciated :)


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